


Trouble in Store

by xanderdaqueer



Series: Aedexus: the Realm [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Original Fantasy World, Original Universe, Sassy satyr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-13
Updated: 2020-02-13
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:21:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22686913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xanderdaqueer/pseuds/xanderdaqueer
Summary: Segment 1 of class work for my original character.
Series: Aedexus: the Realm [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1631941
Kudos: 1





	Trouble in Store

The sun’s rays turned the dusty ground orange as Eosrar browsed the merchant’s wares.  _ I’ve needed a new work shirt for awhile now _ , he mused. Glancing up from the leather journal he’d been half-observing, he waved his hand to get the merchant’s attention. 

The merchant, a taller than average halfling in a brown hempen tunic and trousers, had been polishing the chainmail of his newest set of gauntlets. 

“What can I do for ye today, ‘Srar?” he grinned, sun-kissed skin wrinkling at the eyes as he straightened the display and put down the polishing cloth. 

“Do you by any chance have any plain shirts in stock, Darmak?” Eosrar asked, returning Darmak’s grin. The two had known each other for years: Darmak was actually the first vendor that Eosrar had ever bought from.

“Well now t’at ye mention it, I do! Jus’ didn’ get around to layin’ ‘em out yet. I take it ye care to see?” 

Eosrar nodded in response and watched Darmak make his way to a crate beneath one of the wooden tables. Looking up, he squinted at the sun and took note of the fact that it would start setting soon. A dog brushed up against him and Eosrar was suddenly aware of the way that the village was bustling with activity this afternoon: a small group of children were chasing after the dog, shrieking with glee.  _ Ah, that reminds me… I must feed Jon when I return _ , remembered Eosrar. It was his partner Adolowens’ responsibility to feed their dog since Eosrar had been out all day, but at night Eosrar was the one who gave him food. 

“‘Ere we are,” muttered Darmak to himself as he lay out a shirt for Eosrar to inspect. 

“Thank yo-” Eosrar began, but was cut off by a rough shove. 

“I’d like to see your wares,” came a sardonic tone. 

Eosrar narrowed his brows as he pulled himself back to a standing position and examined the culprit. He was tall and of Satyral descent judging by his hooves. His lip seemed to be curled upwards in an expression of disgust. 

“Excuse me, er-”

“Rydel. You may call me Rydel,” droned the satyr in a bored tone, motioning at Darmak to hand him a necklace as he ran his fingers through his short silver hair. 

“Rydel. Yes. Well, if you don’t mind, I was just about to purchase something from Darmak here,” Eosrar bit out, breathing out his nose slowly.  _ I don’t even know this satyr and already his aura of superiority is proving to be obnoxious. _

Rydel chuckled, looking at Eosrar for the first time and adjusting his silk cloak. Though Rydel and Eosrar were both the same height, Eosrar felt small beneath his piercing yellow gaze. “Mm, yes of course. I don’t mind at all, it’ll be just a moment I assure you. Now, halfling, I’d like 10 of these.”

Darmak’s scruffy eyebrows shot straight up. “Ye didn’t even ask how many I’ve got in stock, boy. I’ve got only 5.”

Rydel let out a sigh and rolled his eyes so hard that Eosrar swore he’d never have to see the other’s eyes again. “Only 5? What a pity. Typical for a halfling, I suppose… you lot never have anything in stock.”

“Listen,” Eosrar began, keeping his tone as neutral as he could will it to be while he watched Darmak’s eye twitch. “I suggest you either buy the 5 or you leave.”

“Oh?” Now it was Rydel’s turn for his well-groomed eyebrows to raise. “You poor, poor man. Having to wait your turn must be such a bother.” He patted Eosrar’s cheek whilst smiling in a condescending manner. 

“I suppose you wouldn’t know about waiting your turn, seeing as how I was the one who was here first.”

Rydel’s eyes became slits but his dangerous smile remained. “You listen here: if you say one more word, I shall be forced to take action.”

Darmak looked from satyr to man, unsure of how to handle the situation. He opened his mouth to say something. Eosrar beat him to it. 

“Shall you?”

Now later back home, Adolowens would chastise Eosrar and say that he brought this upon himself.  _ It wasn’t my fault this Rydel fellow is such a narcissistic ass _ , Eosrar would playfully laugh.

Lucky for Eosrar, he was prepared when Rydel swung at him. He’d dealt with several fistfights before and easily ducked under the blow. He could tell that Rydel wasn’t well experienced with combat. As Rydel swung another clumsy time, furious that the other had dodged so easily, Eosrar caught his arm and stopped him in his tracks. 

“D’ye really think ye can win this, boy?” Darmak chuckled with his arms crossed. 

Rydel’s eyes smoldered. After a moment of hesitation, he pulled his arm from Eosrar’s grasp as though he were shocked. He took a deep breath, jaw clenching, and then was gone.

Darmak snickered to himself as he delicately rearranged the necklace. “Thought he was so tough, that one.”

Eosrar huffed through his nose in amusement. The smell of earth was in the air where it had been stirred by the way Rydel had stalked off. “Just wouldn’t back off, would he?”

“Aye, an’ a fool he is for that matter,” Darmak noted. “Now, ye still interested in that shirt here?” 

Perceiving how the sun had already began to make it’s slow descent in the sky, Eosrar jerked his head in a nod for his reply and 75 coins later bid Darmak farewell. It was only a short trek home. As he reflected on the conflict he had just experienced, he fiddled with his necklace. The situation had been a trifle inconvenient, however Rydel had proved to be a much weaker opponent than he was used to facing. This would go down in his memory as a mere scuffle. In a few days, he probably wouldn’t even remember this. 


End file.
